Playing the Villainess, He Fell for Me

Joanna Kennedy didn’t know about any of this. She had returned to the set, ready to film her final few scenes.

Owen Jennings’s head injury hadn’t fully healed, but the historical-drama wig would cover it.

The final scene was of the princess taking her own life during her bridal procession, a scene witnessed by the young general who had rushed to her side.

"Cut!" the director yelled. And with that, the life of "Cheryl" officially came to an end.

Owen Jennings thoughtfully helped her up, grinning. "Congratulations on wrapping up filming."

Joanna Kennedy’s red wedding dress was sticky with "fake blood." Hearing his words, her expression relaxed slightly. "Thanks."

"Don’t mention it," Owen Jennings said.

Joanna Kennedy smiled. "I’m not thanking you for that."

She didn’t know why Owen Jennings had defended her in the face of public opinion, but she was someone who never forgot a kindness or a grudge. In this matter, she was truly grateful to him.

Owen Jennings blinked, a boyish charm in his handsome features. "Then there’s even less need to thank me for the other thing."

Crew members were moving about. Owen Jennings suddenly leaned in and whispered, "I’ll tell you a piece of good news. All of Nora Nash’s scenes have been cut."

’What do Nora Nash’s scenes have to do with me? How is that good news?’

Joanna Kennedy feigned surprise. "Oh, is that so."

Seeing the girl’s nonchalant expression, the unreadable emotion in Owen Jennings’s eyes deepened. He continued, "Don’t you want to know what happened?"

Joanna Kennedy: "?"

"Sigh..." Owen Jennings let out a faint sigh and then, out of nowhere, added, "So, do you know why I got injured?"

"You were forcibly kissed by a fan," Joanna Kennedy said bluntly.

Owen Jennings’s handsome face stiffened for a moment before returning to normal. He lamented, "Jojo, you’re still too naive. People are more complex than you imagine..."

’Heh. Some little punk is calling me naive and lecturing me about human nature?’

’Are people all this pretentious nowadays? Can’t they just speak plainly? Why do they have to act all mysterious, as if they’re the only sober one in a drunken world?’

Joanna Kennedy was amused. She raised an eyebrow. "Kiddo, what kind of weird game are you playing with me?"

Owen Jennings: "..."

"You really don’t want to know?" Owen Jennings’s tone grew serious. "This is very important to you."

"I don’t." Joanna Kennedy didn’t hesitate at all. "If there’s nothing else, I’m going to go remove my makeup."

She turned to leave. Not having achieved his goal, Owen Jennings followed, unwilling to give up. He said directly, "Joanna Kennedy, be careful of that guy from Southland. He’s not a good person. Don’t let him deceive you!"

The girl finally stopped, her expression cold. "What do you mean?"

Owen Jennings pursed his lips and said, "I had someone investigate. The people who led the group that blocked the car weren’t my fans at all. They were paid by Southland."

"So?" Joanna Kennedy sneered. "What are you trying to say?"

"We had just gotten some ’shipping’ fans, and that very night, this happened to me..." Owen Jennings sighed, his gaze complicated. "Joanna Kennedy, don’t you think he’s too obsessive and controlling?"

"And what’s more, he let me find this out on purpose. What do you think his intentions were in doing so?"

With Simon Lockwood’s capabilities, if he didn’t want something found, Owen Jennings wouldn’t have discovered the slightest clue. And yet, Owen Jennings had uncovered it all with suspicious ease.

This was a blatant warning and a threat.

*

In the car on the way back, Joanna Kennedy was in a daze, Owen Jennings’s words replaying in her mind.

Was Simon Lockwood obsessive?

Perhaps a little.

She had discovered it a long time ago. Simon Lockwood’s way of thinking was different from others. Perhaps due to his upbringing, he was more accustomed to the feeling of having everything under his control.

Simon Lockwood was like a net, subtly and silently closing in on whatever he desired.

He was a man of few words, but his love was not.

Simon Lockwood’s love was obsessive and fervent, like a volcano on the verge of eruption. Get a little closer, and you would feel its warmth. Get too close, and you would be consumed.

Joanna Kennedy chuckled at her own thoughts. ’Owen Jennings really miscalculated by trying to sow discord like this,’ she thought.

Because she liked this kind of love.

Southland Group,

"Some shareholders of the Jennings Company have already started secretly selling their shares at a low price. Should we acquire all of them?" Jack Warren asked as he reported his findings.

For the last half-month, the Jennings Company’s stock had fallen again and again. The company’s old guard had long since lost their nerve. If they waited any longer, the shares in their hands would only become more worthless. It was better to sell them off sooner rather than later.

The man behind the black desk didn’t pause in signing the documents. Without even lifting his head, he gave a soft "Mm," and said, "Be quick about it."

He was so indifferent and cold, as if he were just bankrupting some small enterprise.

As soon as Jack Warren stepped out, he immediately made a call and began the acquisition process.

A message came in on his phone. Hearing the special ringtone, Simon Lockwood set aside his work and opened his phone.

Joanie: [I’m home!]

Joanie: [Simon Lockwood, when do you get off work? I’m so bored~]

The tilde at the end of the sentence was enough for Simon Lockwood to imagine the girl’s tone as she said it.

The coldness in Simon Lockwood’s eyes dissipated slightly. He replied: [Right away.]

The clock on the wall showed 4:40 PM. There were still twenty minutes left until the normal end of the workday.

He was the boss. He could leave early.

Simon Lockwood closed the unfinished file and picked up his suit jacket from the side.

The receptionist, who had been slacking off, nearly had her eyes pop out of her head when she saw her boss coming down. "Good afternoon, Mr. Lockwood!"

"Mm," the man replied faintly.

The receptionist: "..."

’Oh my god, am I seeing things? For the first time ever, the workaholic boss is actually leaving work early?!!!’

’I must be seeing things... I must be...’

When he reached the parking garage and saw the person standing by his car, Simon Lockwood frowned coldly.

Security at Southland Group was tight. No one could see Simon Lockwood without an appointment. Serena Sutton had been waiting here for over half an hour and had expected to wait several more. She hadn’t thought he would come down so soon.

Simon Lockwood said nothing, walking around her to open his car door.

Serena Sutton finally snapped back to reality and instinctively reached for the man’s sleeve. "Simon..."

Simon Lockwood took an imperceptible step back, his expression distant. "What is it?"

Serena Sutton was hurt by the way he recoiled from her. She bit her lip. "I want to talk to you..."

"It’s not a good time."

Serena Sutton’s eyes turned red, her delicate face filled with sorrow. She said, aggrieved, "I thought we were friends. And I really do have something important to tell you."

Simon Lockwood’s expression had grown completely cold. "Move."

The icy tone stung Serena Sutton’s fragile pride. Her fingernails dug into her palms as tears streamed down her face. "All these years, you’ve only had eyes for Joanna Kennedy, haven’t you?"

The man’s expression was impassive.

Serena Sutton stared at him intently. "Why? What’s so great about her?"

"Miss Sutton, we are not familiar enough to be discussing my fiancée."

Fiancée...

Serena Sutton almost wanted to laugh out loud. The wedding from her dreams... Simon Lockwood was actually going to give it to someone else.

She had come to find Simon Lockwood behind Charles Jennings’s back because she hadn’t wanted to be so ruthless.

It was Simon Lockwood who was forcing her hand.